


in my head, champions aren't born. they are forged.

by toro (sapoeysap)



Category: Formula E RPF
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Intricate Rituals, but in getting matching tattoos with someone you semi hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29239440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapoeysap/pseuds/toro
Summary: there's an old joke that goes, five formula e champions walk into a tattoo parlour.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	in my head, champions aren't born. they are forged.

**Author's Note:**

> v, as always. thank you for telling me where the five of them would get their tattoos.  
> this is undoubtedly a story that did not need to be written but is here anyway.  
> think of this as a palette cleanser of a fic e.g. nonsense but fun.

Daniel Abt is the worst thing to happen this sport, Lucas thinks. 

And then messages the man in question this exact thing.

**You spoken to Ant then? x**

Lucas ignores the way the x’s that Daniel has been adding to his texts ever since the last race make him feel. Mostly guilt mixed in with the fact that there isn’t really and never will be again another teammate like Abt.

**We were very drunk. I think it’s a great idea x**

Isn’t really helping Daniel’s case. It’s a very bad idea. 

**Next time you’re in Monaco, i’m going to punch you**

It’s an optimistic reply, Daniel’s next time in Monaco will be few and far between. More likely they’ll run into each other at the Abt offices. Probably in a corridor while Daniel hides away in his own office. 

**Miss you too prof x**

António is still standing in front of him. Looking as always, like a puppy you can’t help but like. Sunshine smile with bright white teeth.

Lucas wants to punch the smile of António’s face at the idea the man and Daniel have cooked up.

‘No, my answer is no.’ 

‘Buemi agreed’, António replies, undeterred with Lucas’s answer. Smile, even smugger, as if he knows Lucas can’t resist rising to the bait. It’s been years. But the competitive ideologies of seasons too close to call until the last second still bubble to the surface easily. He’s never been non-reactive. Da Costa must know how that’s the winning line. How he can never back down from a spot of competition. He’s an athlete. 

A champion. 

‘I am not getting a matching tattoo. With him.’

‘It’s symbolism Lucas, all the champions getting tattoos, you know how they do it in the Marvel movies. All the Avengers have the Avengers logo tattooed on’ 

Lucas’ fears that António might drone on about the subject for hours. Interrupts before the idea gets too out of hand. ‘We’re not the Avengers. And I am not getting a matching tattoo with Piquet.’ 

‘But Buem-’

‘Bye António’ 

And hopes that his power strut out of the room isn’t too dramatic. 

\- 🏎️ -

Jev is kind enough to not lose his absolute shit when Lucas walks into Dixieme Art. 

But every time he catches António out of the corner of his eye, the both of them crack up. Hiding giggles into crooks of elbows. Lucas looks as if he might bubble away in silent anger. 

Makes a mental note to tell Ant to get drunk with Abt more, if these are the ideas that come from their scheming. It’s a small price to pay, marking his own skin forever. Just to see Lucas di Grassi glaring daggers at anyone and everyone. 

There’s a tiny Chihuahua sitting next to him on the waiting couch, that leaps into his lap when Lucas gets closer. It’s practically comedic, the rage that’s emanating from Lucas. Even Sébastien is laughing. 

Nelson isn’t here yet, running late supposedly. 

The tattoos will take half an hour or so on each of them. Then boom, the five of them are linked forever by a marking on their skin. That’s probably the bit that Lucas has tangled himself up over. Which somehow dissolved Jev into another round of giggles. The tiny Chihuahua looking up from his lap with inquisitive eyes. 

‘Why are you laughing, do you not have to get tattooed twice?’ 

Séb’s question is valid, he and Ant had agreed that Jev should be tattooed twice. 

Except they’ve agreed to get the tracks they won their championship at as the mark. All in an electric blue. In the spirit of Formula E or something like that. Somewhere, Alejandro is probably chuckling quietly to himself. It means Jev will end up with two New York outlines, Undoubtedly the ugliest track layout of them all. His only requisite was to overlay them. One in a darker blue than the other. There’s no point hiding it, unlike the one on his fingers. Chooses his wrists, Hopefully it will be faint enough in its thin line work to not be so obvious, yet it feels important to be there. In a place so distinguishable on his skin. 

Lucas has probably got it easiest of all of them. Montreal’s layout is more a square with ugly curves. And at least he’s not like Nelson and Sébastien, having to share a layout. 

Wonders who will end up here with them this season. If they’ll all come to watch someone be marked up. It will most likely end up being Toni, champion to champion. He’s the most willing to convince whichever poor soul who wins that this tattoo idea is amazing. A part of Jev, all of Jev really hopes that it's one of them in this room again, selfish as it is. Getting another track layout inked in forever. Keeping the club small. Pushes that aside almost immediately, guilty at how brazenly selfish the thought is. Interrupted by the door.

Nelson opens the door with apologies on his lips. Pulling Toni into a hug while ignoring the daggers Lucas is shooting at their backs. Jev shakes his hand, not wanting to dislodge the dog perched on his lap. Catches a glimpse at the tattoos that already adorn Nelson’s arm, the family logo, the Formula E logo of old. 

‘I appreciate you guy’s letting me in on this’. 

‘Wouldn’t work without you’, Jev means it. Nelson, whether or not they like it, is in a way the foundation of them all. The benchmark they’d like to forget in a way. But can’t. Nelson has the accolade they all want. The First Champion. Yet there’s no guilt that runs through Jev when he thinks, at least Nelson can’t be the first Formula E World Champion, whatever that means. An accolade that they’re all striving for. Buemi and Lucas, hardened right from the start. António and himself, ingrained for so long. Spares a thought for Sam, to where Sam would put the tattoo. Slotted somewhere in all the other marks on the man’s skin. How important that one would be for his friend. 

Sèb catches his eye as Nelson moves away. 

Raises an eyebrow. 

He can play nice, Sèb can deal with it. 

\- 🏎️ -

Only a small part of him regrets this decision. 

It’s a terribly tacky idea in a way, but Jennifer thinks it’s sweet. She’d laughed, not unkindly, when he mentioned the placement. Kissed him sweetly, sent him out to the boys with a ‘i’ve got a matching ring with you, just don’t be getting one with Brendon and Kazuki, i’m sure Sarah will kill me’. 

So here he is, in Monaco’s only tattoo parlour. Hiding a laugh at the anger that’s practically radiating from Lucas. 

‘Are we doing this in championship order, or what?’ 

It’s a fair question, Nelson’s the most tattooed. 

Séb won’t admit to it outside of his wife, but he’s a little afraid. Of the pain. Plus the fact that he and Nelson will share a tattoo design. Maybe it’s good to let Nelson go first. See a little bit of pain spread across Nelson’s face. Feels okay with that. He’s not malicious, it’s outside of a racing car. A pain he’ll have to experience as well. 

‘Championship Order seems fair’, Ant affirms, nodding over the assembled group. 

It’s funny to watch, the chain reaction of Nelson smiling leading to Lucas scowling. 

He’s sure that if he and Jev catch each other’s eyes again they will laugh so hard the lot of them will get kicked out. 

‘Séb, why don’t you go in with Nelson, you look pale as a sheet’ Lucas can’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. 

Jev starts into a laugh. 

‘Yes Séb, why don’t you go in with Nelson.’

Nelson raises an eyebrow. Smiles. 

He figures that Nelson knows when to not pick a fight in this situation. 

Feels a little sorry for the tattoo artist. She seems nice. Doesn’t deserve to be in between this at all. 

He’ll do his best to play nice. 

Watches as she preps the area, shaves Nelson’s forearm down. Wipes everything away to lay the template out on the skin. Slotting it in between the other tattoos. It looks nice, considering how ugly the circuit outline is hypothetically. 

Maybe it won’t look so bad on him either. 

Nelson smiles at the press of the needle. 

Half an hour later when the needle digs into Séb’s rib cage, he bribes the artist to not tell anyone he had to call Jennifer. 

\- 🏎️ -

“He’s calling his wife. Swear on my life. I can hear him”

Ant moves away from the door, smiling wide and already messaging Abt that this is our best idea ever

Wraps an arm around Nelson, who's looking quite fond at the plastic wrap covered forearm. 

‘Regretting things?’

Nelson smiles back. 

‘Not at all’ 

Ant still has his arm wrapped around Nelson when he looks out to the rest of them. Can’t help but let joy overtake him. How nice this is. Better than the awkward moments in Berlin, all five of them put together for promotion, emotions hidden behind masks and the fact there was still racing going on. Smiling with their eyes for the camera but heads somewhere else.

Here is their own choice. Their own decision to be together. 

As much as Lucas supposedly hates it. He’s still here. Sat making conversation with Jev. 

Jev whose petting the stupidly fluffy tiny chihuahua with glee. Unworried about anything. 

Séb yells break the conversation. Sending the lot of them into a kind of giggling that never stops until Séb walks out again.

Which is when it all sort of gets muddled. 

Ant thinks maybe he was distracted by the way Séb’s walked out shirtless and looking sheepish. Hands ghosting the edge of the wrap. Smiling at all of them. There’s a glint of a tear in his eye that at no point any of them will ever bring up. It seems to be something more between Séb and his own thoughts. 

Jev has resorted to carrying the chihuahua, it’s one of the fluffier breeds, being rocked in Jev’s arms like a fluffy baby. 

Perhaps it’s the way Ant gets caught up in the way Jev’s holding the dog. Or the way Séb is holding himself, changed in a way that will be imperceptible beyond these walls. Which is how Ant misses the way Lucas goes through into the tattoo room, how Ant misses Nelson following. 

Only when they settle down again, does it hit that Nelson is missing as well as Lucas. 

The tattoo artist appears again. She asks, perfect smile. 

‘Is Lucas ready’ 

Which is when Ant slowly feels the bubble of giggles boil up, the sort that are released in a mild panic. 

‘He’ll be a few minutes he just went to the toilet’ 

It’s a quick excuse that she buys. Retreating back into the room. 

‘Nelson’s gone off with Lucas’

Jev almost drops the dog. 

\- 🏎️ -

It’s undoubtably stupid, Lucas liable to blow up at any given time. 

Following him through to the toilets is probably not the wiser idea, something about never trapping someone in a toilet. So Nelson waits in the hallway, leaning against the wall. 

Lucas’s eyes betray surprise for a second when he leaves the bathroom. 

Nelson notices things he shouldn’t notice. In the distance between them. 

There’s tension for a fight, he’s not the one radiating it. 

They are grown adults, and Lucas shapes his body like he’s ready to throw the first punch. 

Nelson never braces for the hit though. 

No point, Lucas’ wars are always in words. Physical left for the most tenuous of moments. He’s supported by a wall and has Lucas on the surprise. 

Chalks one up mentally, a win for him. 

‘You know this will make us linked in a way. Forever’ 

Lucas has perfected the art of the glowering eyes, piercing with anger. 

They’ve got softer over the years. 

Nelson wonders if his own eyes have become softer, worn down by age. Or if they’ve been soft all along. Worn down by life in general. 

‘I’m aware’ 

It’s unlike Lucas, such a short perfunctory answer. Nelson starts to speak but Lucas jumps in before that. 

‘I’ve thought it over. It’s not really about us though is it?’ Lucas almost spits the “us” out, he’d never thought it was about them, just the concept in general of this unity. But his track is already etched in and Lucas’s skin is still ink free. So Lucas can have that idea forever. It’s sort of nice, to live so rent free in Lucas’ head. 

There’d been a time, when they’d had to be kept apart in rooms and spaces. 

Weeks when people had sent Nelson the clip of Nico Rosberg throwing his hat across at the podium room at Lewis. The joke on the screen, that he and Lucas where the Lewis and Nico of Formula E. It’s this that makes him concerned no one has appeared in the hallway. Chasing after them, making sure there’s no trail of destruction in a hallway.   
António is probably too busy hiding laughter, Jev’s as useless, caught up in whatever perpetual French sexy auteur moodiness the man seems to be going through cyclically. Séb’s the most on they're side, but Nelson doesn’t imagine Swiss peacekeeping is coming anytime soon. 

He’s the one that blocked Lucas of in the corridor anyways. No need for the United Nations for Formula E champions to come charging through quite yet. 

The goal to this inquisition is forgotten for a moment, in Lucas’s rambling argument. 

‘Lucas’

‘Nelson’

Always perfunctory between them. 

‘You don’t have to do this to prove a point. But I felt I owed you enough to tell you I forgive you.’

It’s worth saying it, just for the way Lucas looks like he might implode. 

For the sparks in the hallway. 

Written in the articles that they're always in each others heads. 

Nelson wants one last dig. Now he’s got it, he’ll clear the slate. Wonders if the flash of the track layout already on his arm winds Lucas up further, red flag to a bull, as he reaches his arms forward and pulls Lucas into a hug. 

It’s awkward, even when Lucas reaches his arms around as well. 

‘I’d be lying if I said I forgave you as well Piquet.’ 

It’s said through a laugh. 

And maybe it’s not a full clean of the slate, but when Nelson pulls away, Lucas is smiling. 

‘Guess I go get this tattoo now’

It’s as Lucas gets to the door, that Nelson hears it, a murmur. 

‘Thanks Nelson’ 

The door opens, António’s laughter spills in, warm and over joyed. 

Nelson gives himself a moment before walking back out. Enough time for Lucas to have disappeared proper into the tattoo room. 

A second to fortify his mind for all the inevitable “what was that all about then” 

Lucas comes out forty later, in just his boxers and a shirt. The lines of Montreal bold on his thigh. Thicker than anyones before. There’s a stripe of electric blue down the finish straight, thinner than the rest. Nelson can’t help but note the way Lucas catches his eye, winks, and disappears back to get the tattoo wrapped. 

\- 🏎️ -

Daniel’s mid twitch-stream when his phone pings. 

Bursts into laughter, eyes closing as he fights back tears. Of course now is when the message comes through from António. It’s a sequence of pictures, ones that he fights desire hard on flashing to the camera. Nelson’s arm, track outline snuck in between the rest of the tattoos. Séb’s ribcage, skin red but the lines strong. Easy to distinguish Lucas’ thigh, the thick lines and strip of blue that’s so di Grassi extra. Jev’s inner wrist is etched twice, delicate and thin lines across the top of veins. It’s probably António’s ass that tips him over into teary laughter. Berlin’s layout has never looked better, embedded onto Ant’s left asscheek. He toys for a second with showing his followers that. They're captioned ‘Our best idea ever’, and Daniel doesn’t disagree. 

It’s a subscriber notification that pulls him out of the laughter. He dances a little at the song, wipes the tears and thanks the subscriber. Laughs out, ‘Message from António, all’s good. Everything’s so so good’ 

**Author's Note:**

> the working title for this was 'i had to google tattoo places in monaco for this', but actually thanks to that BBC documentary "inside monaco: playground of the rich" for letting me know there is a tattoo parlour there. 
> 
> this started out as, what if all the formula e champions when they became champion woke up with a 'soulmark' of the track they won on and they were all different colours but lucas' and nelson's matched. but then turned into. what if daniel and antónio got drunk and thought of this. (new brand is working abt into fics where he shouldn't belong)  
> the restraint in not calling this 'the taste of ink is getting old' 
> 
> title is from the note that pete wentz published alongside champion. 
> 
> v's placement for the tattoos:  
> Nelson on his forearm where he has his now  
> Antonio drunken on his ass  
> Lucas on his thigh for looking professional and easily hideable if needed reasons  
> Jev the emo bitch on his wrists because look at him  
> Buemi ribcage because he is dramatic and also because its not too obvious but weirdly emotional


End file.
